


Presence/Presents

by gotfanfiction



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geraskier Exchange (The Witcher), Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, M/M, Multi, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Rated T For S W E A R S, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28436847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotfanfiction/pseuds/gotfanfiction
Summary: Jaskier has gotten 28 texts from Ciri, who is also panicking about what to get Geralt.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 85
Collections: Geraskier Holiday Exchange 2020





	Presence/Presents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Octinary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octinary/gifts).



> Written for octinary, on Tumblr, for the Geraskier Holiday Exchange on Twitter! Slid in with one day to spare *\o/* I hope you like your gift <3

Every. Single. Time. Every holiday, every event, every birthday, even, Jaskier worries and panics and ends up buying Geralt some useless knick knack or novelty tie, or even more tools, or. Fuck. Perhaps this year will be the year he just gives him money.

*--*

_ Jaskier is excited, so much that he’s wriggling with it. He hasn’t been skiing in years, not since that whole...business with his father, and the disowning, and well- he won’t think of that right now. He wants to enjoy himself. He had taken his roommate, Geralt with him, because the coupon he’d gotten specified that two people must be present, and while he had plenty of acquaintances, Geralt was the closest thing he had to a friend at the moment. _

_ The other had agreed to go only because, for some reason, he had nothing else to do; for whatever reason Geralt couldn’t go home or be with his own family this winter break. So here the two of them are, kitted out in winter gear and dangling in the air. _

_ Jaskier spends most of their time on the lift nervously chattering away, Geralt somehow managing to be even more silent than he usually was, and it’s not until they’re just about to where they need to jump off that Geralt grits out that- he’s never done this before. And Jaskier is not the best person to teach anyone anything, but especially not skiing and then it’s too late- they’re at the top; they have to jump. _

_ Geralt immediately slips and falls on his ass, snow all over his everything but nothing broken, not even a bruise. Jaskier doesn’t do a very good job of smothering his laughter, half relieved, and Geralt, even struggling to get his feet and skis under him, visibly harried, has an impressive glare. But, giggling or not, Jaskier still helps him up, shows him how to turn and stop and soon enough the much more athletic young man is skiing circles around him. Metaphorically speaking. _

_ He isn’t expecting it, is the thing, not even a little bit. _

_ They’re in the room that came with the deal, just for tonight; both looking like wet cats, snow melted right through the not-very-high-quality gear that Jaskier bought for them, faces red, but he looks up from stepping out of his boots and Geralt- is smiling, laughing at Jaskier’s awkward dancing as he tries to get out of his soaked clothes, and he’s never seen that before, now has he?  _

_ He liked Geralt well enough before, but that feeling, just at the sight of that smile, grew into the first buds of love. _

*--*

Jaskier has gotten 28 texts from Ciri, who is also panicking about what to get Geralt, but she has her wonderful face to soften the blow of another tie or scarf or ridiculous hat. He soothes her as best he can via text, but knows she has nothing to worry about. The wind whips his own, very fashionable, scarf across his face, and he curses loudly as he grabs it and tucks it back into place, pulling a face at the woman who gasps at him in affront.

He feels a bit of petty satisfaction when other people on the sidewalk roll their eyes at her, but he also spots others looking at him with recognition slowly dawning on their faces; he doesn’t think he can deal with fans when he’s feeling like this, so he just vaguely smiles and hurries off as the phones start pointing in his direction.

*--*

_ Jaskier was, once again, soaked, but drying out fairly quickly next to the bonfire. They’d all gotten whatever they could burn, tossed it together into a massive pile, and set it aflame. He was pretty sure there was an entire copy machine in there. It was probably the source of the random bursts of green flames. He was also pretty sure that he would normally be a bit more concerned about that but he was drunk, and Geralt was hanging off his shoulder, laughing about something Lambert was doing. _

_ And even though his friend was, by all accounts, a happily married man, a new father, and extremely heterosexual, all while Jaskier was horrendously in love with him, he felt nothing more than a flush of genuine happiness. He’d given up on fighting these damn feelings, and was surprisingly no longer fraught with jealousy at Geralt’s perpetual unavailability. He liked Yen, and absolutely adored Ciri, who could be Geralt’s daughter by blood on looks alone. _

_ Some of their friends were still off aways, pelting each other with snowballs in the light of the bonfire, and they were all a bit too old for this, weren't they, but it was such a wonderful feeling, running around like children, laughing and falling over and just celebrating another year's passing, and more than a decade of friendship. He finished off his drink, and Geralt’s as well, not that he even noticed, too busy looking around himself at everyone, smiling like a dope. _

_ Yen had taken Ciri back into the house with the rest of their slightly more responsible friends, giving Jaskier a fond glare and kissing her husband on the cheek, warning them not to get too drunk as she would not be taking care of them. _

_ She would, of course she would, but she had a reputation to maintain. _

_ Jaskier adjusted his best friend so that Geralt was in slightly less danger of sliding right off his seat and into the half-melted snow, and thought, as Eskel started the countdown to midnight, of what sort of resolution he should make. He thought that, perhaps, this year he should really double down on getting his music out there, on getting out of his comfort zone, move from gigs at pubs and see about landing an actual venue.  _

_ He wasn't expecting Geralt, who was shouting along with everyone else, to grab his face and plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek, just near to the corner of his mouth, or to be abruptly yanked up into a ferociously awkward group hug, too many people and their very sharp elbows involved, but as everyone screamed 'happy new year' at each other and the lovely dark sky, he resolved that this new year, he would only do things that made him feel as happy as he did now. _

*--*

Jaskier was almost to the point of giving up, and, taking Renfri's advice, just… called Geralt to ask him what he wanted. It ended the way he suspected it would, with his oldest, dearest, most oblivious friend assuring him that the best gift he could give was Jaskier himself, at the small family gathering one of them hosted every year, but he appreciated the thought. 

Very sweet, but not very useful.

So, here he was, sat in his car, with three very expensive bottles of alcohol buckled safely in the passenger seat, and a gift that felt, gods, just absolutely cheesy and stupid, but Geralt, if he wanted a non-stupid present, should have just  _ told _ him what he wanted, like everyone else had. 

Jaskier imagined that Geralt probably had an entire closet full of all the ridiculous things Jaskier had given him over the years. 

He'd had something of a revelation after his predictably disappointing telephone conversation with Geralt. And, feeling sentimental and just a smidge silly, had spent a whole two weeks frantically digging through boxes of mementos, calling people he hadn't properly spoken to in years, and spending way too much money at various craft stores and maybe getting a little high from all the glue and marker fumes.

But it was done in time. 

*--*

Most everyone had left, Jaskier feeling jittery and anxious as Yen and Geralt stood in the doorway, speaking too quietly for him to hear, heads close together, Yen with that fond glare of hers, mouth soft and smiling, and she hugged Geralt tightly before she slipped away to where Sabrina was undoubtedly waiting for her. 

Jaskier had stashed his gift in the guest bedroom -the one only he ever used- after presenting his liquor to a great deal of approval. And the party had gone the way it usually did, everyone eating and drinking and enjoying spending time together and catching up, like half of them didn't live in the other halves pockets.

But now it was just the two of them, Geralt with an absurdly wrapped gift in his lap and Jaskier with absurdly sweaty palms. He didn't know why he was so nervous, sitting here damp at the collar like he hadn't once Geralt an actual vibrator. This was ridiculous, he was being ridicul-  _ oh, gods, he's opened it,  _ **_shit,_ ** _ it's shedding glitter,  _ **_fuck-_ ** __

"You made this." Geralt carefully, turned the pages of the scrapbook Jaskier had agonized over. "It's… us, and everyone else, too." His fingers stopped over the first photo of the two of them together, both hungover and scowling bleary-eyed at the photographer.

"Well, uh, yes?" Jaskier cleared his throat. "I just thought, well, it would be nice, wouldn't it? Our lives, all together in one place?"

Geralt gently closed the book, set it on the coffee table, and knelt in front of Jaskier, who was, typically, not at all prepared for this. "Thank you," Geralt was whispering, and it was so quiet, a soft moment, Jaskier feeling overwhelmed. "Can I kiss you?" 

And of course he asked first, of  _ course _ he did, and Jaskier said yes, because how could do anything else, heart in his throat, eyes closing as Geralt kissed him, hands sliding into Geralt's hair, everything slotting perfectly into place like a resolution. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on Twitter @gotfanfiction :]


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